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Folks complain that they die at the top and get ragged-looking. So they do so they do, if you don't risk your neck every spring climbing up a light ladder to trim them out. I always did it for Miss Elizabeth, so her Lombardies never got out-at-elbows. She was especially fond of them. She liked their dignity and stand-offishness. THEY don't hobnob with every Tom, Dick and Harry.
At the end of the long lane Faith came to the house a big, old-fashioned one with a row of soldierly Lombardies marching past it. On the back veranda Norman Douglas himself was sitting, reading a newspaper. His big dog was beside him. Behind, in the kitchen, where his housekeeper, Mrs.
My neck isn't worth much to anyone, which, I suppose, is why I've never broken it; and my Lombardies never look out-at-elbows. My mother was especially fond of them. She liked their dignity and their stand-offishness. They don't hobnob with every Tom, Dick and Harry. If it's pines for company, master, it's Lombardies for society." We stepped from the front doorstone into the garden.
It was a beautiful day, and the man in the wagon seemed unusually loath to attend to business. The tired ponies slept in the shade of the lombardies. The plain was draped in a warm mist, and shadowed by vast, vaguely defined masses of clouds a lazy June day. "Dodd's Family Bitters," said the man, waking out of his abstraction with a start, and resuming his working manner.
They'll tear up my garden and let the Lombardies get ragged and the paling will come to look like a mouth with half the teeth missing and the roof will leak and the plaster fall and they'll stuff pillows and rags in broken window panes and everything will be out-at-elbows."
She loved EVERYTHING about it the garden she had tended, and which so many women had tended before her the gleam and sparkle of the little brook that crept so roguishly across the corner the gate between the creaking fir trees the old red sandstone step the stately Lombardies the two tiny quaint glass cupboards over the chimney-piece in the living-room the crooked pantry door in the kitchen the two funny dormer windows upstairs the little jog in the staircase why, these things were a part of her!
Four Winds Harbor was beginning to be a thing of dream and glamour and enchantment a spellbound haven where no tempest might ever ravin. The Lombardies down the lane, tall and sombre as the priestly forms of some mystic band, were tipped with silver. "Always liked Lombardies," said Captain Jim, waving a long arm at them. "They're the trees of princesses. They're out of fashion now.
The alluvium of the Euphrates, of the Mississippi, of the Hoang Ho, of the Amazons would take in many Lombardies and half-a-dozen Venetias without noticing the addition.
Rachel stepped out of the lane into the backyard of Green Gables. Very green and neat and precise was that yard, set about on one side with great patriarchal willows and the other with prim Lombardies. Not a stray stick nor stone was to be seen, for Mrs. Rachel would have seen it if there had been.
"In November I sometimes feel as if spring could never come again," she sighed, grieving over the hopeless unsightliness of her frosted and bedraggled flower-plots. The gay little garden of the schoolmaster's bride was rather a forlorn place now, and the Lombardies and birches were under bare poles, as Captain Jim said.
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